Edward looked a little conscious of his deficiency in this particular,but again promised strict punctuality.

The clock at this moment struck nine, a signal for the children toretire. They instantly arose, and, taking an affectionate leave of theparty, withdrew.

CONVERSATION X.

This being the last evening before Edward's departure, the family couldnot be assembled so regularly as usual. Mrs. Bernard was engaged withEdward up stairs, arranging his clothes, and other matters that werenecessary, preparatory to his journey. Mr. Bernard, in the mean time,devoted himself exclusively to the other children below. Little Sophywas allowed to make one of the party, and amused them with her cheerfulvivacity, till Jane came with the unwelcome news that it was bed-time.After she had taken her leave, Louisa sat down to complete a baby's cap,which she had begun the preceding evening; and Ferdinand was going toattempt to copy a house, that Edward had, in the morning, sketched forhim, when Mr. Bernard, who generally took an opportunity, when notalone, of speaking to the children upon any little impropriety ofconduct, called Ferdinand to him, and, with the most endearinggentleness, told him, that he had remarked in him that day, as well ason several former occasions, an unwillingness to acquiesce in thecommands of his mother, unless he were informed what were her reasonsfor urging them. "Every child, my dear boy," continued he, "who wishesto learn, must bring with him that teachable disposition, which iswilling to receive rules implicitly, and rust to the future for aknowledge of the reasons on which they are grounded. A child who isresolved to take the judgment of no one but himself, concerning theimpropriety of what is proposed to him, will absolutely prevent thepossibility of improvement; at least, he will lose a great deal of time,and, what is still worse, will contract bad habits in the beginning,and, in all probability, find himself unfit to be taught, when he wouldgladly learn. One of the first duties of children, is obedience: indeed,instruction can, in no instance, be built on any other foundation. Ifexamples in proof of this were wanting, I could give you many. Therecruit learns his exercise on the authority of his officer, because heis himself ignorant of the art of war. The reasons for the differentmanoeuvres, he will discover when he comes into action. General Wolfetold his soldiers, that if the French should land in Kent, as they wereat that time expected to do, actual service in that enclosed country,would show them the reason of several evolutions, which they had neverhitherto been able to comprehend."

Ferdinand confessed the truth of all his father had said, but, at thesame time, thought it far better to know the motive of actions andcommands, when it was possible.

"But it is so often impossible, my dear boy," continued Mr. Bernard,"that it is far better to make implicit obedience the groundwork of yourconduct, particularly when the commands are from your excellent mother;to whom you all owe so much, and whose wishes are ever dictated byreason, though it may not be always either necessary or proper todisclose those reasons to you. The Lacedeaeonians carried the doctrineof submission so far, that they obliged their Ephori to submit to theridiculous ceremony of being shaved, when they entered upon theiroffice; signifying, by this act, that they knew how to practisesubmission to the laws of their country. In short, my dear boy, it is auniversal rule, that he who will gain any thing, must give up something;he that wishes to improve his understanding, his manners, or his health,must contradict his will. This may not be an easy task; but you willfind it much harder to suffer that contempt, which is always the portionof those who neglect the acquirement of wisdom and of virtue. The wisestof men are often obliged to adopt the principle I have been recommendingto you. I will tell you an anecdote, in confirmation of this assertion:'A gentleman appointed to a government abroad, consulted an eminentperson, who was at that time the oracle of the law, as to the rule ofhis future conduct in his office, and begged his instructions. 'I takeyou,' said he, 'for a man of integrity, and therefore the advice I mustgive you in general is--to act in all cases according to the best ofyour judgment. However, I have this rule to recommend: never give yourreasons. You will gain no ground that way, and may, perhaps, bringyourself into great difficulties by attempting it. Let your motives bethose of an honest man, and such as your conscience will support you in;but never expose them to your inferiors, who will be sure to have theirreasons against yours; and while these matters are discussed, authorityis lost, and the public interest suffers.' Thus, my dear Ferdinand, yousee, that when children submit to the direction of their parents andteachers, who are bound, by affection and interest, to promote theirhappiness, and who will certainly take pleasure in explaining to them,at proper times, the motives by which they are actuated, they do butfollow the example of all communities of men in the world: who arepassive for their own good; who are governed by laws, which not one infive hundred of them understand; and who submit to actions, of whichthey cannot see either the propriety or justice. Now, if children areonly required to submit to the same necessary restraints that areimposed upon men, no indignity is offered to them, nor can they have anyjust cause of complaint. Your own sense, my love, if you consult it,will convince you, that society could not subsist, nor could anyinstruction go forward, without obedience. Consider the wisdom andhappiness which are found amongst a swarm of bees. They are a pattern toall human societies. There is perfect obedience, perfect subordination:no time is lost in disputing or questioning, but business goes forwardwith cheerfulness at every opportunity, and the great object is thecommon interest. All are armed for defence, and ready for work.Recollect, too, what is the fruit of their wise economy:--they have astore of honey to feed upon, when the summer is past. Follow theirexample, my dear boy; and such, I hope, will be the fruit of yourstudies."

Having said these words, Mr. Bernard kissed Ferdinand with the fondestaffection. He owned himself convinced, most fully, by his father'sarguments, of the impropriety of his past conduct, and promised, infuture, to yield implicit obedience to the wishes of both his dearparents.

"And now, my dear girl," continued Mr. Bernard, turning to Louisa, "Ihave also something to say to you, respecting your noisy, boisterousmanner of entering a room. It is extremely unbecoming in any well-educated person, but in a little girl, from whom we expect the greatestdelicacy and gentleness, such rough, unpolished manners, areparticularly disagreeable. A very intimate friend of mine, the otherday, was speaking of your conduct in terms of general approbation, butshe ended by regretting extremely, that awkwardness of manner whichprevents your appearing in so agreeable a light as other children, whoare not possessed of half so many real excellencies. I should be verysorry to have you neglect the _jewel_, in order to polish the _casket_;but having secured the _one_, can see no objection to your attending, insome degree, to the improvement of the _other_. A diamond is, when firstdug from the mine, a valuable acquisition, but its beauties are notdiscovered till the hand of the polisher has brought to light its hiddenlustre. A pleasing, gentle deportment, places female virtue in thefairest point of view; and I hope, my dear love, you will not neglectits assistance, in the formation of your character."

Louisa thanked her father for his advice, and promised, in future, topay greater attention to her manners, in which respect she had certainlybeen hitherto very deficient. Having completed her cap, she enquiredwhether there would be time for her to have a lesson in natural history:adding, I have, by means of "Bingley's Animal Biography," taught myselfa good deal, without your assistance, papa. I have learnt that theanimals in the first class, Mammalia, have warm and red blood, that theybreathe by means of lungs, that they are viviparous, which meansbringing forth their young alive, and that they suckle them with theirmilk. The jaws are placed one over the other, and are covered with lips.The seven orders into which this class is divided, are, as mamma taughtme last week, Primates, Bruta, Ferae, Glires, Pecora, Belluae, and Cete.All this, you see, papa, I have remembered pretty well. Will you now beso kind as to tell me what animals belong to the first order, Primates,and how they may be distinguished?

_Mr. B._ The principal animals of this order are, man, the ape, thevarious tribes of monkeys, and the bat. They have, in each jaw, fourfront, or cutting teeth; except in some species of bats, which have,occasionally, only two, and at others none. They have one canine toothon each side, in both jaws. Mr. Bernard then desired Louisa andFerdinand to open their mouths, and he would show them which were thecanine teeth; and, pointing to the sharp, single tooth, situated next tothe double ones, he told them that all animals preying upon flesh, wereprovided with those sharp instruments, for the purpose of tearing theirfood to pieces.

_Louisa_. The more I study nature, my dear papa, the more clearly do Isee the goodness and mercy of God, who has so wisely provided for thevarious wants of his creatures.

_Ferdinand_. I am not surprised that men and monkeys should be rangedin the same class, because they are, in many respects, very similar intheir appearance; but bats, papa, seem so extremely different. They area great deal more like birds than man. They have wings, you know, andflit about exactly like birds.

_Mr. B._ If you regard their wings alone, they might be classed as youpropose, Ferdinand; but if you attend to their formation, with the eyeof a naturalist, you will find that they have all the characteristicswhich determine the class Mammalia. They are viviparous, and theysuckle their young.

_Ferdinand_. And so do cows, horses, pigs, and many other animals: dothey, then, belong to the same class?

_Mr. B._ Yes, my dear: cows belong to the class Mammalia, but to thefifth order, Pecora, which is known by their having several blunt,wedge-like front teeth in the lower jaw, and none in the upper. Theirfeet are defended by cloven hoofs. They live entirely upon vegetablefood, and all ruminate, or chew the cud.

_Ferdinand_. Pray, what does that mean, papa?

_Mr. B._ All the genera in this order, my dear, are provided with fourstomachs. They swallow their food without chewing, which is receivedinto the first stomach; here it remains some time to macerate, andafterwards, when the animal is at rest, by a peculiar action of themuscles, it is returned to the mouth in small quantities, then chewed,and swallowed a second time for digestion.

_Ferdinand_. Do horses and pigs belong to the order Pecora, likewise?

_Mr. B._ No: they are both ranked in the order Bellua. They haveobtuse front teeth. Their feet are armed with hoofs; in many whole, inothers divided.

_Louisa_. I take notice, papa, you always mention the teeth: I supposethey are of consequence, in determining the order.

_Mr. B._ Yes, my dear, they are one of the most strikingcharacteristics.

_Ferdinand_. You were surprised, Louisa, to find that bats wereconsidered of the class Mammalia; but I think it is much moreextraordinary that whales should be ranked under the same head with men.I always thought they were great, large fishes.

_Mr. B._ They differ from fishes as much as bats differ from birds.Like them, they bring forth their young alive, and suckle them withtheir milk. They breathe by means of lungs, like land animals, beingtotally destitute of gills. But here come your mother and Edward: let usmove our table, and make room for them by the fire. They will find itvery comfortable, after their employment in the cold.

Louisa jumped up, and, in her usual bustling manner, was preparing toobey her father, but suddenly recollecting the advice which he had justgiven her, she corrected herself, and, with the greatest gentleness,removed every obstacle; set two chairs for her mother and brother, inthe place she thought most comfortable; and, to her great surprise,found the business effected as soon, or sooner, than it would have beenwith the greatest noise and bustle.

Her father perceived her caution, and gave her a smile of approbation,which filled her with delight.

_Mr. B._ To the fourth, Glires: but, unless you know the peculiarcharacteristics by which each order is distinguished, you will never beable to recollect the answers I have given to your desultory questionsthis evening. I have, in my pocket-book, a short account of each order,which I yesterday wrote out for Louisa, and which I should wish you tocopy neatly, into a book devoted to the purpose of observation onnatural history. Mr. Bernard then gave to Louisa a paper, containingthe following account:

The _Primates_, which is the first order of the class MAMMALIA, havefour parallel front, or cutting teeth, in each jaw; except in somespecies of bats, which have either two only, or none. They have onecanine tooth on each side, in both jaws. The females have two pectoralmammae, or breasts. The two fore feet resemble hands, having fingers,generally furnished with flattened, oval nails. Their food is bothanimal and vegetable. The principal animals in this order are, man,the ape and lemur tribes, and the bats.

2nd. The _Bruta_ have no front teeth in either jaw: their feet are armedwith strong, blunt, and hoof-like nails. Their form is, to appearance,clumsy, and their pace usually slow. Their food is principallyvegetable. None of the animals of this order are found in Europe: theyconsist of the sloths, the ant-eaters, the rhinoceros, elephant, andmanati.

3rd. The _Ferae_ have generally six front teeth, of a somewhat conicalshape, both in the upper and under jaw: next to these, are strong andsharp canine teeth; and the grinders are formed into conical, or pointedprocesses. Their feet are divided into toes, which are armed withsharp, hooked claws. This tribe is predacious, living almost entirelyupon animal food; and consists of the seal, dog, cat, weasel, otter,bear, opossum, kangaroo, mole, shrew, and hedgehog genera.

4th. _Glires_ are furnished with two remarkably large and long frontteeth, both above and below, and are destitute of canine teeth. Theirfeet have claws, and are formed both for bounding and running. Theyfeed on vegetables. The genera are, the porcupine, cavy, beaver, bat,marmot, squirrel, dormouse, jerboa, and hare.

5th. The _Pecora_ have several blunt, wedge-like front teeth, in thelower jaw, and none in the upper. Their feet are armed with clovenhoofs. They live on vegetable food, and all ruminate, or chew the cud.The genera are, the camel, musk, deer, giraffe, antelope, goat, sheep,and cow.

6th. _Belluae_ have obtuse front teeth. The feet are armed with hoofs;in some whole or rounded, in others obscurely lobed or sub-divided. Theylive on vegetable food. The genera are, the horse, hippopotamus, tapir,and hog.

7th. The _Cete_, or Whales, although they resemble fishes in externalappearance, are ranged very properly amongst the Mammalia, having warmblood, similar lungs, teats, &c. Instead of feet, they are providedwith pectoral fins, and a horizontally flattened tail, fitted forswimming. They have no hair. The teeth are in some speciescartilaginous, and in others bony. Instead of nostrils, they have atubular opening on the top of the head, through which they occasionallyspout water. They live entirely in the sea; feeding on the soft marineanimals and vegetables.

The children carefully read over this paper, exclaiming: "It is almostexactly what you have told us before, papa, only here we have it all atone view."

_Mr. B._ Do you understand the signification of all the words, mydears?

The children looked over it again.

_Louisa. Predacious_ papa; I do not know the meaning of that word.

_Ferdinand_. Oh, Louisa! I can tell you that. A predacious animal isone that preys upon others.

_Louisa_. Thank you, Ferdinand. _Conical_? Does not that mean, in theform of a sugar-loaf?

_Mr. B._ They are fins growing by the breasts, and serve them to clasptheir young, as well as for the purposes of feet.

"I am not certain that I understand the meaning of the word_cartilaginous_, but believe it signifies, that the teeth of the whaleare sometimes formed of gristle, instead of bone," said Ferdinand.

_Mr. B._ You are quite right, my love; and now, if you fully comprehendthe meaning of all the words, we will attend to our Roman history alittle. Let me hear what more you have read respecting Tarquin and hisinfamous son.

_Edward_. We have finished the account of the regal government.Tarquin and his son behaved so basely, that the people could no longerbear their tyranny and oppression, but boldly threw off the yoke. Wemust, however, first tell you, papa, what became of the poor inhabitantsof Gabii, who had fallen victims to their credulity, and to theconfidence they placed in the perfidious Sextus. When they sawthemselves thus totally at the mercy of the tyrant, they fell into thedeepest despair, expecting to suffer the most cruel treatment. Theirmisfortunes were not, however, so great as their fears. Tarquin thoughtit most for his own interest, to act with some degree of humanitytowards this betrayed people, and none of the citizens were put to deathby his order. He granted them their lives and liberties, making Sextustheir king. Tarquin, after this, continued for some time to enjoyprofound peace at home. The Romans became accustomed to the yoke oftheir imperious master, and groaned in silence under his oppressions.

"Let me give the account of that curious woman, who came with her greatbooks, if you please, Edward," said Ferdinand.

"With all my heart," returned Edward.

_Ferdinand_. Just at this time, when Tarquin was enjoying profoundpeace, an unknown woman came to court, loaded with nine large volumes,which she offered to sell for a great sum of money. On Tarquin'srefusing to give it, she went away and burnt three of the books. Sometime after this she returned to court, and offered the remaining six forthe same sum. The people then thought her a mad woman, and drove heraway with contempt. She again withdrew, and burnt four more, stillreturning with the remainder, and demanding the same price as she haddone for the whole nine volumes. Tarquin now grew quite curious to knowthe cause of this strange proceeding, and put the books into the handsof his augurs, to have them examined. They found them to be the oraclesof the Sybil of Cumae, and declared them an invaluable treasure.Tarquin, therefore, ordered the woman to be paid the sum she demanded.She exhorted the Romans to preserve her books with great care, andafterwards disappeared.

_Mrs. B._ What became of these mysterious books? Can you tell us,Louisa?

_Louisa_. They soon became very much respected at Rome, and wereconsulted on all cases of emergency, as they were supposed to foretelfuture events. Two persons of high rank were appointed by Tarquin, tobe guardians of these invaluable treasures. They were locked up in avault of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and when, some time after,this temple was burnt, they also were destroyed with it.

_Emily_. The tranquillity of Tarquin's reign was disturbed by adreadful plague, which suddenly broke out in Rome, and raged with greatviolence. It made such an impression upon his mind, that he resolved tosend his sons, Titus and Arun, to consult the oracle of Delphi upon thecause of this contagion, and how they might effect its cure. Theprinces prepared magnificent presents for Apollo. Junius Brutus, thepretended idiot, was to accompany them for their amusement. He was theyoungest son of the venerable Marcus Junius, whom I mentioned lastnight, as being assassinated by order of Tarquin; and Brutus would alsohave fallen a sacrifice to his cruel policy, had he not counterfeitedidiotism. When the princes were preparing their presents, he resolvedto carry his offering also. The whole court was diverted at the choicehe made, of a suitable present for the occasion, which was an elderstick. He knew that the gods of those times, or their ministers, weremuch delighted with valuable offerings; he therefore contrived toconceal a rod of gold in this stick, without the knowledge of any one.

_Mr. B._ This was a true emblem of his own mind, which, under acontemptible outside, concealed the richest gifts of nature. Did theygain any intelligence from the oracle.

_Louisa_. I believe it told them, there would soon be a new reign atRome. Upon this, the young princes enquired which of them shouldsucceed Tarquin. The answer returned was: "He who shall first give akiss to his mother." The two brothers then declared that they would bothkiss her at the same moment, that they might reign jointly. Brutus,however, thought the oracle had another meaning, and, pretending to falldown, he kissed the earth, the common mother of all living.

_Emily_. The regal power lasted but a very little time longer in Rome.A brutal insult, offered by Sextus to Lucretia, the virtuous wife ofCollatinus, roused the dormant spirit of the people. Brutus threw offthe mark of idiotism, by which he had been hitherto concealed, andseizing the dagger, which Lucretia, unable to survive the insult she hadreceived, had plunged into her breast, he held it up to the assembly,stained as it was with the blood of that unhappy woman, and, in a veryanimated speech, called upon his fellow-citizens to avenge her cause.They were all astonished at the sudden change in Brutus, who then toldthem his former folly had been affected, as the only means of securinghim from the murderous designs of Tarquin. The nobility all submittedto the will of Brutus. He caused the still bleeding body of Lucretia tobe carried to the place where the senators usually assembled, and,placing the corpse where it might be seen by every body, ordered thepeople to be called together, and addressed them in a very spiritedspeech, which was often interrupted by the acclamations of the people.Some wept at the remembrance of past sufferings, other rejoiced in theidea that their sorrows were about to end, and all called for arms. Thesenate passed a decree, depriving Tarquin of every right belonging tothe regal authority, and condemning him and all his posterity toperpetual banishment.

"Can you tell me, Edward, how Tarquin acted upon this change offortune," said Mr. Bernard.

_Edward_. He was not in Rome at the time it occurred, but, upon hearingthat Brutus was endeavouring to excite a tumult against him, he hastenedto the city, attended by his friends and his three sons; but finding thegates shut, and the people in arms upon the walls, he returned with allspeed, to the camp. During his absence, however, short as it was, hefound that the conspirators had gained over the army to their party.Thus, driven from his capitol and rejected by his troops, he was forced,at the age of seventy-six, to fly for refuge, with his wife and sons, toGabii, in hopes the Latines would come forward and espouse his cause;but being disappointed in this expectation, he retired into Etruria, thecountry of his mother's family, where he hoped to find more friends, andstill entertained expectations of recovering his throne. Having wanderedfrom city to city, he at length fixed his residence in Tarquinia, and sofar raised the compassion of the inhabitants, as to induce them to sendan embassy to Rome, with a modest, submissive letter from himself,directed to the Roman people.

_ Mr. B_. Pray Emily, what was passing in Rome all this time.

_Emily_. Brutus assembled the people in the field of Mars, and in longspeeches exhorted them to concord; and the consuls, standing before thealtars, took an oath, in the name of themselves, their children, andposterity, that they would never recall king Tarquin nor his family frombanishment, nor create any other king of Rome; and they made the peopletake the same oath. Under these circumstances, you may suppose that theambassadors from the banished king did not meet with a very favourablereception. From their earnest supplications to the senate, however, thatthey would hear their monarch before he was condemned, the consuls atfirst inclined to bring them before the people, and to leave thedecision of the affair to them; but Valerius, a man of great weight inthe council, strongly opposed this measure, and, by his influence in thesenate, defeated this first attempt of the artful Tarquin. His next stepseemed likely to be more successful. A second embassy was dispatched toRome, under pretence of demanding the estates of the exiles, but withprivate instructions to stir up a faction, if possible, against theconsuls. The ambassadors were admitted, and urged the most modestdemands in behalf of the banished king. They requested only his paternalestate, and on that condition promised never to attempt the recovery ofhis kingdom by force of arms.

_Mr. B_. Well, Louisa, what reception did this proposition meet?

_Louisa_. The consul Collatinus would have complied with the request,but Brutus opposed it. It was then left to the decision of the people,who generously determined that the Tarquins should be put in possessionof the estates of their family.

"It was a generosity which those wicked Tarquins did not deserve, I amsure," said Ferdinand; "for whilst the people were employed in loadingcarriages with their effects, and in selling what could not be carriedoff, the ambassadors were trying to draw some of the nearest relationsof the consuls into a plot against them. Among the conspirators wereTitus and Tiberius, the two sons of Brutus. Notwithstanding the secrecywith which they carried on their designs, their plot was discovered byone of their slaves, who disclosed the affair to Valerius. Upon thisinformation, the conspirators were taken prisoners, and their papers,with several letters which they had written to the banished king,seized."

"The trial of these unhappy men was very affecting," said Emily: "earlyon the following morning, the people being summoned to the hall ofjustice, the prisoners were brought forth.

"Brutus began with the examination of his two sons. The slave who haddiscovered their designs, appeared against them, and the letters theyhad written to the Tarquins were read. The proofs being clear, theprisoners stood quite silent, and pleaded only by their tears. Threetimes their father called upon them to plead their cause, but tears werestill their only answer. Many of the senators were touched withcompassion, and implored for their banishment rather than their deaths.All the people stood trembling, in expectation of the sentence. Theirstern father at length arose, and with a steady voice, uninterrupted bya single sigh, said: "Lictors, I deliver them over to you; the rest isyour part." At these words, the whole assembly groaned aloud; distressshowed itself in every face, and the mournful looks of the peoplepleaded for pity: but neither their intercessions, nor the bitterlamentations of the young men, who called upon their father by the mostendearing names, could soften the inflexible judge. The heads of theyoung men were struck off by the lictors, Brutus all the while gazing onthe cruel spectacle, with a steady look and composed countenance."

"In his feelings as a patriot," returned Mr. Bernard, "those of thefather appear to have been absorbed. What became of the other prisoners,Edward?"

_Edward_. Excepting the ambassadors, they all shared the fate of thesons of Brutus. His severity towards his children, greatly increased hisauthority in Rome; and when he was, some time after, slain in battle byAruns, the son of Tarquin, the citizens were inconsolable for his loss.They considered him as a hero, who had restored liberty to his country,who had cemented that liberty by the blood of his own children, and whohad died in defending it against the tyrant. The first funeral honourswere paid him in the camp; but, the next day, the corpse was broughtinto the Forum, in a magnificent litter. On this occasion, Valerius gaveRome the first example of those funeral orations, which were ever aftermade in praise of great men. The ladies distinguished themselves on thisoccasion: they mourned for him a whole year, as if they had lost acommon father.

"The death of such a man was, indeed, a serious misfortune to thestate," said Mr. Bernard: "can you tell me what became of the banishedTarquin?"

_Emily_. After an exile of fourteen years, during which time he mademany ineffectual struggles to recover the throne, he died at theadvanced age of ninety.

"This, papa, is all we have read at present," said Edward; "I hope mybrother and sisters will not go on with the history till my return, forthis is a very good place to leave off."

_Louisa_ I am sure, Edward, we should have no pleasure in going onwithout you, and am certain mamma would not wish it.

It was unanimously agreed, that the Roman history should be laid asidetill Edward's return.

"You have now seen," said Mr. Bernard, "the freedeom which the Romansrecovered by the expulsion of Tarquin the Proud, secured to them by hisdeath; a freedom that was undoubtedly the source of all their futuregrandeur. I must again repeat, my dear children, that I have been muchpleased with the manner in which you have given this little sketch ofthe regal government of Rome. One very important point you have,however, overlooked."

"Pray, papa, what is that?" enquired the children, with one voice.

"The dates of the different events which you have mentioned," repliedtheir father. "Geography and chronology, are desevedly called _the twoeyes of history_. Without geography, which is a knowledge of thesituation and extent of the different countries of the earth, no readerof history can have clear and distinct ideas of what he reads, as beingtransacted in them; and without chronology, which is a knowledge of thetime when the various events took place, the historical facts heacquires by reading, will only be an incumbrance upon his memory. Hewill have a number of confused ideas, but no regular or usefulinformation. Now, which of you can tell me in what year Rome was built?"

"Oh, we all know that," said Louisa; "it was seven hundred and fifty-three years before the birth of our Saviour."

"And the regal power was abolished four hundred and sixty-seven yearsbefore that event," continued Edward; "so that _that_ administrationlasted two hundred and eighty-six years."

"But I do think, papa," said Ferdinand, "that it is very difficult toremember dates. I wish you could tell us some easy way, by which wemight impress them upon our memories."

"The system of Mnemonics, lately introduced by Fineagle and Coglan, youwill find a great assistance. The substitution of letters for figures,is an excellent plan, as it enables you to form the date into words,which you may associate with the event itself, and, by this means,impress it much more indelibly upon your memory."

"I do not quite understand you, papa," said Louisa.

"I will purchase one of Mr. Coglans's books, the next time I go totown," said her father, "that will explain the plan to you very clearly,and I think you will find it extremely useful. Come, my dear Edward,"added he, turning to his son, "as you have so long a journey in prospectto-morrow, it is quite time for you to retire."

The rest of the children soon followed his example, and taking anaffectionate leave of their parents, withdrew for the night.

CONVERSATION XI

Mr. Dormer called early the following morning, and breakfasted with theBernard family before his departure. The little folks endeavoured towelcome him with smiles; but it was very evident that their hearts wereheavy, in spite of their efforts to appear cheerful. They had neverbefore been separated from each other, and they felt that Edward'sabsence would make a sad blank in their little circle. Edward himself,though delighted with the prospect of his journey, could not repress astarting tear, as his mother folded him, with maternal tenderness, toher bosom. He renewed his promise of writing them a long letter in thecourse of a week, giving a full account of all he should hear and learn;then, kissing his brother and sister, he hastened into the chaise,followed by Mr. Dormer, and soon lost the sadness which had crept overhis spirits, in admiration of the luxuriant country through which theypassed.

But with the little group at home, it was quite otherwise: they had novariety of scene to banish their sorrow for his departure; on thecontrary, every object they saw reminded them of their beloved Edward.They felt, without being aware of it, the force of Scott's beautifullines:

"When musing on companions gone, We doubly feel ourselves alone."

Their customary tasks passed off heavily, and every object,notwithstanding the cheerfulness of the day, assumed an appearance ofunusual gloom.

Mrs. Bernard affectionately sympathised in their sorrow, and thinking awalk might in some measure divert their attention, proposed a visit tothe old woman's cottage. Mr. Bernard had lost one of his under clerks,and intended taking Henry to supply his place, should he find himqualified for the situation. No proposition could have been moreagreeable to the children, and with great alacrity they prepared toaccompany their mother. It was, however, some time before they couldrecover their spirits, so as to enjoy their walk as usual.

"Ah, mamma," said Ferdinand, "how very different things appear when weare happy, and when we are unhappy; this walk was so delightful lastMonday! How much we did enjoy ourselves! Do you not remember it? Yougave us that interesting account of the British _hirundines_. Edwardenjoyed it with us, and we thought it so pleasant; and now I really donot think it a particularly cheerful walk, and, to tell you the truth,mamma, it appears to me very dull to-day, and yet I see no alteration inthe prospect."

_Mrs. B._ The alteration is in your own mind, my boy. Your presentfeelings must convince you, how important is the acquisition of thatfirmness of mind, which your father has so constantly endeavoured toinculcate, and which can alone enable you to bear, with fortitude, the_real_ evils you will have to encounter in after life.

"Indeed, my dear, I do not," replied Mrs. Bernard; "on the contrary, Ihope, to Edward it will prove a real good; and I am sure you are none ofyou so selfish as to wish to deprive him of any advantage, merely forthe sake of your own gratification."

"Selfish! Oh, no, mamma, indeed we are not selfish," cried all thechildren at once: "we will convince you we are not, for we will, thisminute, leave off grieving for Edward's departure, and teach ourselvesto rejoice, and wish him very happy."

_Mrs. B._ You will do quite right, my dears; and now let us change thesubject, for that is the best way to banish your regret.

_Ferdinand_. I was very much amused yesterday, mamma, with reading thenew book you gave me for a prize a little time ago.

"Yes, mamma: I was reading that part of Harry and Lucy, in which theirfather so clearly explains to them the expansibility of air, and thepower of steam; and I thought this might, perhaps, account for a thingthat has always puzzled me extremely, and that is, earthquakes.[Footnote: Another remark of the child before mentioned.] I was readinga description of one a few days ago, and feel very anxious to know whatcan occasion such dreadful convulsions in the bowels of the earth. Willyou be so kind, mamma, as to tell me what is supposed to be the cause?"

_Mrs. B._ On this, as well as on most other philosophical subjects, theopinions of the learned vary. Mr. *****, who was a great naturalist,imagines some to be produced by fire, in the manner of volcanoes;others, by the struggles of confined air, expanded by heat, andendeavouring to get free. But there does not appear any sufficientreason for this distinction. The union of fire and air seems necessaryto effect the explosion; since the former is an agent of no power,without the aid of the latter.

_Ferdinand_. But pray, mamma, how does heat get into the inside of theearth?

_Mrs. B._ There are hidden in the bowels of the earth, immensequantities of inflammable matter: pyrites, bitumens, and othersubstances of a similar nature, which only require moisture to put theirfires in motion. Water readily finds its way into the greatest depthsof earth: or even from subterraneous springs, this dreadful mixture mayoccur, when immediately new appearances ensue; those substances whichhave lain dormant for ages, and which, had they not met with this newelement, would have remained so for ages longer, appear suddenly to havechanged their nature: they grow hot, produce new air, and require roomfor expansion. The struggles this air then makes to get free, throw allabove into convulsions, and produce those dreadful catastrophes which weso properly denominate earthquakes. This appears the most rationalmeans of accounting for this phenomenon; I have not, therefore, thoughtit needful to enter into the theoretical speculations of philosophersupon the subject.

_Ferdinand._ Well, mamma, directly I read, in Henry and Lucy, anaccount of those experiments, I felt almost sure, the expansion of theair in the earth, was the cause of earthquakes; though I did not exactlyunderstand how it could be. I am much obliged to you for yourexplanation.

_Mrs. B._ You are very welcome, my dear. You lately read an account ofone of these dreadful convulsions of nature. Where did it happen?

_Ferdinand._ In Jamaica, mamma, in the year 1692: it is a most dreadfulaccount. In two minutes' time, the town of Port Royal was destroyed,and the houses sunk in a gulph forty fathoms deep. In every fathom,there are six feet, you know, mamma; so, if we multiply forty by six, weshall find that these poor creatures were instantly buried, with theirhouses, to the depth of two hundred and forty feet under ground. Inother parts of the island, the sand rose like the waves of the sea,lifting up all who stood upon it, and then dashing them into pits. Thewater was thrown out of the wells with the greatest violence; theopenings of the earth were in some places so broad, that the streetsappeared twice as wide as they were before: in others, the ground yawnedand closed again continually, swallowing, at each yawn, two or threehundred of the wretched inhabitants: sometimes the chasms suddenlyclosing, caught them by the middle, and crushed them instantly to death.From openings still more dreadful than these, spouted up cataracts ofwater, drowning such as the earthquake had spared. Every thing wasdestroyed: houses, people, and trees, shared one universal ruin. Greatpools of water afterwards appeared, which, when dried by the sun, leftonly a plain of barren sand, without a single trace of its formerinhabitants.

_Mrs. B._ I recollect to have read the account, as well as that of avery similar one that occurred some years ago at Lisbon, which is, youknow, the capital of Portugal. I have, at home, a very interestingnarrative of an earthquake that happened at Calabria, in the southernpart of Italy. It is related by Father Kircher, who was considered as aprodigy of learning, and was also a very excellent man. When we returnhome, I will look for the paper, and let you read it.

Just as Mrs. Bernard had finished speaking, a little girl, about sixyears old, came running towards them, crying most bitterly, andexclaiming: "Oh! dear lady, do pray come to my poor mammy, for she isvery bad indeed: I do think she is going to die, as my daddy did lastweek; and then poor baby, and Tommy, and I shall die too, for there willbe nobody to take care of us when mammy is gone."

"By the hill-side, Ma'am, at yonder cottage," said the child, pointingto a low-roofed shed at no great distance.

Mrs. Bernard, accompanied by Emily, Louisa, and Ferdinand, proceededtowards the spot pointed out by the little girl, and on entering thecot, beheld a sight which wrung their gentle hearts with pity. On abundle of straw in one corner of the hovel, (for it deserved no bettername,) lay a young woman, apparently fast sinking into the arms ofdeath; at the foot of this wretched bed, sat a poor little half nakedboy, crying for that food his wretched mother could not supply; aninfant at her breast, was vainly endeavouring to procure the nourishmentwhich nature usually provides, but which want and misery had now nearlyexhausted.

Mrs. Bernard approached the poor sufferer, and took her hand. It wascold and clammy: her lips moved, but no sound met the ears of theattentive listeners Mrs. Bernard then enquired of the child, what foodher mother had lately taken.

"Oh! none, Ma'am, since the day before yesterday. When my poor daddywas carried away, we had but one loaf left, and that she _giv'd_ all toTommy and me."

This account, though it shocked Mrs. Bernard extremely, still gave herhopes that disease was not the sole cause of the poor woman's deplorablesituation, and induced her to believe, that proper nourishment, withother attentions, might be the means of preserving a life so valuable toher infant family.

Emily proposed hastening home for medical assistance, and also for thatnourishment which seemed not less necessary.

Mrs. Bernard requested she would take charge of her brother and sister,as it was her intention to remain at the cottage till the poor womanshould revive a little. She also begged her to send Jane as quickly aspossible, who was an excellent nurse, and would cheerfully afford theassistance of which the poor sufferer stood so much in need.

Emily immediately set off, accompanied by Louisa and Ferdinand. Beforethey had proceeded far, they met a rosy milk-maid, singing with her pailupon her head.

"Oh!" exclaimed Louisa, "I do think some milk would be good for the poorwoman and the children, till we can get them something better. Do let meask the young woman to take some to the hut."

Emily quite approved her sister's plan, and pointing out to the girl thepath that led to the hovel, they received her promise to call with themilk, and proceeded on their way, their hearts already lightened of aload of anxiety.

Mrs. Bernard was delighted at the sight of the milk-girl, and muchpleased with the consideration of the children in sending her. Shepurchased a sufficient quantity, to supply, for the half starvedchildren, a plentiful meal.

"Have you no bread in the house, my dear," said she to Susan, for thatwas the little girl's name.

"Yes, Ma'am, a little," returned she; "because I did not eat my lastbit, for fear we should not get any more; and then, if poor little Tommywas ever so hungry, he would have nothing to eat, for mammy is too illto work for us now."

"But are you not hungry yourself?" enquired Mrs. Bernard.

"Oh yes, Ma'am," replied Susan, "that I am; but I don't mind it: I amthe biggest and the strongest, so it won't hurt me to be hungry a bit."

Mrs. Bernard looked the surprise and admiration at this truly goodchild. "Well, my poor little Susan, you shall have a good meal now, assoon as we can boil the milk. But the fire is almost out."

"Oh, Ma'am, I'll make a cheerful blaze in a minute," said Susan, whoseusual alacrity was increased by the hopes of a plentiful meal: andinstantly running into the lane, she, in a few minutes, collected alarge bundle of sticks, which she placed with much judgment upon theexpiring embers, and exciting them with her breath, a blazing fire soonlighted the cold walls of the hut, and cast a ray of cheerfulness aroundthe gloomy scene. The heat from the fire, together with reflection fromits flame, gave to the child's before pallid countenance, a momentaryflush of health; and Mrs. Bernard thought, as she gazed upon her, shehad never seen a more interesting little creature. She supplied thefire with a fresh bundle of faggots, which maintained the genial warmth;and producing a saucepan, which for brightness might have vied with anyin Mrs. Bernard's kitchen, she put on the milk to boil.

Whilst this operation was performing, Susan swept up the hearth, reachedout of a cupboard two black porringers, and crumbled into them herlittle store of bread.

Tommy, in the mean time, had crept from the bed, and was warming hishalf-frozen limbs at the cheerful fire, eyeing with delight the mealthat was preparing for him.

As soon as the milk boiled, Mrs. Bernard poured it upon the bread, andpersuaded the poor woman to take a few spoonfuls. It appeared to reviveher much; and a violent flood of tears, which at this moment came to herrelief, proved still more salutary. Mrs. Bernard did not wish to stoptheir flow: she took the little infant in her arms, and gave it a goodmeal of bread and milk; after which it dropped into a sweet sleep, andwas again laid on the humble bed of its mother.

Susan and her brother ate their portion with the eagerness of realhunger, and with hearts glowing with gratitude; though in a style ofinfantine simplicity, they tanked their generous benefactress for herkindness.

In about an hour Jane arrived, accompanied by Mr. Simmons, the medicalfriend of the family. He was a man possessed of a liberal fortune, butof a still more liberal mind. His skill in his profession was great, andhe was always ready to exert it to the utmost, for the relief of theneedy sufferer. He warmly entered into Mrs. Bernard's benevolent plan onthis occasion, and confirming her suspicion, that the poor womanrequired nourshing diet and care, rather than medicine, it wasdetermined that Jane should remain at the cottage as nurse, and that thechildren should be removed to a more comfortable abode, till theirmother was sufficiently recovered to attened properly to them. Nopersuasions, however, could prevail upon poor little Susan to leave hermother; she was, therefore, permitted to remain as Jane's assistant,whilst her brother and the baby were conveyed to the hospitable mansionof Mr. Bernard.

Under the kind care of Jane, and with the necessary assistance from herbenevolent mistress, the cottage soon assumed a new appearance. Thewretched pallet of straw was removed, and gave place to a comfortablebed. A table and chairs were provided, and a degree of comparativecomfort reigned around.

The poor woman endeavoured to express her gratitude for so manyunexpected blessings, but was prevented by the positive commands of Mrs.Bernard, who insisted upon her keeping herself, for this day at least,perfectly tranquil.

The children at home had not been less busily, or less benevolentlyemployed, than their mother at the cottage. The moment little Tommy andthe baby entered the house, the charity-box, so recently stored by thehand of industry, was recollected with delight. Some warm undergarments,with a neat frock and petticoat, were soon found, that exactly fittedlittle Tommy, and the baby was still more easily provided for.

"See, see, the effects of industry!" cried Ferdinand, jumping withdelight around his sisters, as Louisa tied the last string of Tommy'sfrock, and Emily put on the baby's cap, which she declared made it lookquite beautiful: "Oh! how delightful to be able to be so useful. Now Iwish mamma would come home: how pleased she would be. What a pity thatpoor little Susan is not here, to have some new clothes too; but we musttake her some, Emily. Let us go to the box, and look for some that willfit her."

"We have none large enough, Ferdinand," said Emily.

"Oh yes, I do think this pink frock will be big enough," exclaimedFerdinand, drawing one out from underneath the others: "here is a greattuck in it, let us pull it out; that will make it a great piece longer."Saying these words, he was going to immediately to proceed to business,when Louisa loudly exclaimed:

"Oh, stop, Ferdinand, stop; that is not a real tuck; there is a greatjoin under it, because my stuff was not long enough to make it all inone piece."

"What a pity! How shall we manage then?" said Ferdinand, putting on alook of great consideration.

"We must have patience till we can make one of proper size, I believe,"added Emily: "but here comes mamma."

Ferdinand and Louisa instantly seized each a hand of little Tommy, andled him forward, whilst Emily followed with the baby.

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_protegeis_, and thanked her children for the assistance they hadrendered her.

The idea of having afforded their mother assistance, as well as havingextended their benevolence towards a poor stranger in distress,gladdened their affectionate little hearts, and never was there ahappier group.

"Ah, mamma, I am now convinced of the truth of what you said," continuedFerdinand, "that the departure of Edward is not a real evil. Do you notthink it is very useful to see real sorrow sometimes?"

_Mrs. B._ Indeed, my dear boy, I do. It teaches us the true value of theblessings we enjoy, and, I should hope, would fill our minds withgratitude towards the Dispenser of so many favours.

In attention to their new charge, the children spent a most happy day,and in the evening, Emily and Louisa, according to the promise they hadgiven Ferdinand, began to make the clothes for little Susan; whilst heread aloud to them the following account of the earthquake in Calabria,which had been the subject of their conversation during the morningwalk.

"Having hired a boat, in company with four more, two friars of the orderof St. Francis, and two seculars, we launched, on the twenty-fourth

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promontory of Pelorus. Our destination was for the city of Euphemia inCalabria, where we had some business to transact, and where we designedto tarry for some time. However, Providence seemed willing to cross ourdesigns; for we were obliged to continue three days at Pelorus, onaccount of the weather; and though we often put out to sea, yet we wereas often driven back. At length, however, wearied with delay, weresolved to prosecute our voyage; and although the sea seemed more thanusually agitated, yet we ventured forwards. The gulph of Carybdis,which we approached, seemed whirled round in such a manner, as to form avast hollow, verging to a point in the centre. Proceeding onwards, andturning my eyes to Etna, I saw it cast forth large volumes of smoke, ofmountainous sizes, which entirely covered the whole island, and blottedout the very shores from my view. This, together with the dreadfulnoise, and the sulphureous stench which was strongly perceptible, filledme with apprehensions that some most dreadful calamity was impending.The sea itself seemed to wear a very unusual appearance: those who haveseen a lake in a violent shower of rain, covered all over with bubbles,will conceive some idea of its agitations. My surprise was stillincreased by the calmness and serenity of the weather: not a breeze, nota cloud, which might be supposed to put all nature thus into motion. Itherefore warned my companions that an earthquake was approaching; and,after some time, making for the shore with all possible diligence, welanded at Tropoea, happy and thankful for having escaped the threateningdangers of the sea.

"But our triumphs at land were of short duration; for we had scarcelyarrived at the Jesuit's College in that city, when our ears were stunnedwith a horrid sound, resembling that of an infinite number of chariotsdriven fiercely forward, the wheels rattling and the thongs cracking.Soon after this, a most dreadful earthquake ensued; so that the wholetrack upon which we stood seemed to vibrate, as if we were in the scaleof a balance that continued wavering. This motion, however, soon grewmore violent, and being no longer able to keep my legs, I was thrownprostrate upon the ground. In the mean time, the universal ruin aroundme redoubled my amazement. The crash of falling houses, the totteringof towers, and the groans of the dying, all contributed to raise myterror and despair. On every side of me, I saw nothing but a scene ofruin, and danger threatening wherever I should fly. I commended myselfto God, as my last great refuge. At that hour, Oh, how vain was everysublunary happiness! Wealth, honour, empire, wisdom, all were uselesssounds, and as empty as the bubbles in the deep. Just standing on thethreshold of eternity, nothing but God was my pleasure, and the nearer Iapproached, I only loved him the more. After some time, however, findingthat I remained unhurt amidst the general confusion, I resolved toventure for safety, and running as fast as I could, reached the shore,but almost terrified out of my reason. I soon found the boat in which Ihad landed, and my companions also, whose terrors were even greater thanmine. Our meeting was not of that kind where every one is desirous oftelling his own happy escape; it was all silence, and a gloomy dread ofimpending terrors.

"Leaving this seat of desolation, we prosecuted our voyage along thecoast, and the next day came to Rosetta, where we landed, although theearth still continued in violent agitation. But we were scarcely arrivedat our inn, when we were once more obliged to return to the boat, and inabout half an hour, we saw the greatest part of the town, and the inn atwhich we had set up, dashed to the ground, and burying all itsinhabitants beneath its ruins.

"In this manner proceeding onwards in our little vessel, finding nosafety on land, and yet, from the smallness of our boat, having but avery dangerous continuance at sea, we at length landed at Lopizium, acastle midway between Tropoea and Euphemia, the city to which, as I saidbefore, we were bound. Here, wherever I turned my eyes, nothing butscenes of ruin and horror appeared; towns and castles levelled to theground: Strombolo, though at sixty miles distance, belching forth flamesin an unusual manner, and with a noise which I could distinctly hear.But my attention was quickly turned from more remote, to contiguousdanger. The rumbling sound of an approaching earthquake, which we bythis time were grown acquainted with, alarmed us for the consequences.It every moment seemed to grow louder, and to approach more near. Theplace on which we stood, now began to shake most dreadfully; so thatbeing unable to stand, my companions and I caught hold of whatever shrubgrew next us, and supported ourselves in that manner.

"After some time, this very violent paroxysm ceasing, we again stood up,in order to prosecute our voyage to Euphemia, that lay within sight. Inthe mean time, while we were preparing for this purpose, I turned myeyes towards the city, but could see only a frightful dark cloud, thatseemed to rest upon the place. This the more surprised us, as theweather was so very serene. We waited, therefore, till the cloud waspast away, then turning to look for the city, it was totally sunk.Wonderful to tell! nothing but a dismal and putrid lake was seen whereit stood. We looked about to find some one that could tell us of its sadcatastrophe, but could see none: all was become a melancholy solitude--ascene of hideous desolations. Thus proceeding pensively along, in questof some human being that could give us some little information, we atlength saw a boy sitting by the shore, and appearing stupified withterror. Of him, therefore, we enquired concerning the fate of the city;but he could not be prevailed upon to give us an answer. We entreatedhim, with every expression of tenderness and pity, to tell us; but hissenses were quite wrapped up in the contemplation of the danger he hadescaped. We offered him some victuals, but he seemed to loath the sight.We still persisted in our offices of kindness, but he only pointed tothe place of the city, like one out of his senses; and then running upinto the woods, was never heard of after. Such was the fate of the cityof Euphemia; and as we continued our melancholy course along the shore,the whole coast, for the space of two hundred miles, presented nothingbut the remains of cities, and men scattered, without a habitation, overthe fields. Proceeding thus along, we at length ended our distressfulvoyage by arriving at Naples, after having escaped a thousand dangers,both at sea and land."

"The children were all highly interested by this extract, but a secretawe crept over their minds, as they listened to the account of thisdreadful visitation, and they felt thankful that a gracious Providencehad placed him in this happy isle, where such tremendous convulsions arebut seldom felt.

"I learnt a passage from Cowper's 'Task,' the other day, mamma," saidEmily, "in which he deplores a similar catastrophe, that occurred inSicily some time ago: may I repeat it to my brother and sister?"

"Certainly, my dear," replied Mrs. Bernard.

Emily having received the approbation of her mother, immediately recitedthe following striking passage:

"Alas, for Sicily! rude fragments now Lie scatter'd, where the shapely column stood. Her palaces are dust. In all her streets, The voice of singing and the sprightly chord Are silent. Revelry, and dance, and show, Suffer a syncope and solemn passe, While God performs upon the trembling stage Of his own works, his dreadful part alone, How does the earth receive him? With what signs Of gratulation and delight, her king. Pours she not all her choicest fruits abroad, Her sweetest flowers, her aromatic gums, Disclosing Paradise where'er he treads? She quakes at his approach: her hollow womb Conceiving thunders, through a thousand deeps And fiery caverns, roars beneath his foot. "The hills move lightly, and the mouontains smoke, For he hath touch'd them. From the extremest point Of elevation, down into the abyss. His wrath is busy, and his arm is felt. The rocks fall headlong, and the valleys rise: The rivers die into offensive pools, And, charg'd with putrid verdure, breathe a gross And mortal nuisance into all the air. What solid was, by transformation strange, Grows fluid; and the fix'd and rooted earth, Tormented into billows, heaves and swells, Or with vortiginous and hideous whirl, Sucks down its prey insatiable. Immense The tumult and the overthrow; the pangs And agonies of human and of brute Multitudes, fugitive on every side, And fugitive in vain. The sylvan scene Migrates uplifted, and with all its soil Alighting in far distant fields, finds out A new possessor, and survives the change. Ocean has caught the phrenzy; and upwrought To an enormous and o'erbearing height, Not by a mighty wind, but by that voice Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore Resistless. Never such a sudden flood. Upridg'd so high, and sent on such a charge, Possess'd an inland scene. Where sow the throng That press'd the beach, and hasty to depart, Look'd to the sea for safety? They are gone! Gone with the refluent wave into the deep, A prince with half his people! Ancient towers, And roofs embattled high, the gloomy scenes, Where beauty oft, and *etter'd worth, consume Life in the unproductive shades of death, Fall prone. The pale inhabitants come forth, And happy in their unforseen release From all the rigours of restraint, enjoy The terrors of the day that sets them free."

Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Bernard were conversing in this instructive andinteresting manner, with their little family, they were interrupted bythe arrival of Jane. She brough a good account of the poor woman, whowas already considerably better, and felt her appetite in some measurereturning.

"I think, Ma'am," continued Jane, "that a little sago or tapioca, orsomething of that kind, would be very nice and nourishing for her totake, before she settles for the night."

Mrs. Bernard quite approved this proposition: she desired Emily to bringa small jar of tapioca from the closet in the store-room, and givingJane a sufficient quantity for the poor woman's supper, dismissed heragain to her charge.

The children all rejoiced to hear so good an accouont, and begged theirmother would allow them to walk to the cottage the following morning.She readily promised a compliance with their request, provided theweather should prove favourable.

Louisa, who had been for some minutes examining the tapioca, exclaimed:"Pray, mamma, what is this; I cannot make it out: it does not look likea seed, I think."

_Mrs. B_. It is, my dear, the produce of a plant, but not its seed. Theplant is called cassada, and it grows in the Cape Verd Islands, as wellas in Rio de Janeiro, and many other parts of South America. The rootis a wholesome vegetable, but the expressed juice from it is a rankpoison.

"How extraordinary!" said Ferdinand: "I should think they could not eatthe root, without taking the juice also."

"You will be still more surprised," said his mother, "to hear that thisvery juice, after standing some time, deposits a sediment, which, whendried, is not only wholesome, but extremely nutritious: and, in fact,forms the tapioca which Louisa now holds in her hand."

"And sago, mamma," said Ferdinand, "is that the produce of a plant too?"

_Mrs. B_. Yes, my dear; it is obtained from a plant which grows in theEast Indies: the medullary, or pithy part of which, is beaten withwater, and made into cakes. These the Indians use as bread. This, whenreduced into granules and dried, forms the sago we find so nourishing topersons of weakly and delicate constitutions. But it is now, my dearchildren, quite time to retire.

The children instantly arose, and putting away their work, took leave oftheir parents; and having peeped at their little charge, who were bothin a sweet sleep, they retired to their pillows, and enjoyed thattranquil repose which generally visits the young and innocent.

CONVERSATION XII.

Contrary to the hopes of the children, the following morning wasextremely wet, so that it was impossible they could walk to the cottage.They had, however, the pleasure of hearing that the poor woman had had acomfortable night's rest, and that she was so much refreshed, as to beable to sit up whilst Jane made her bed.

Several days elapsed without affording them their wished-for pleasure.This put their patience to a severe trial, as they were very anxious tohear the poor woman's story, and to make the dutiful and affectionatelittle Susan, the present their industry had prepared for her. Still,being fully convinced that impatience would not hasten theaccomplishment of their wishes, they bore their disappointment with thegreatest good-humour; and turning their attention to other objects,spent the time, which would otherwise have passed heavily away, incheerful and improving occupations.

They began now each day to watch anxiously for the arrival of thepostman, and on the sixth morning after Edward's departure, Emilyreceived from him the following letter:

_Plymouth, Sept. 30, 1814._

"MY DEAR SISTER,

"If I had not bound myself by a promise to write to you, I am sure youwould have received, by this post, a letter from me. Now I am at adistance from home, it is the only means of communication afforded me.I long for you every moment, to enjoy with me the many pleasures Mr.Dormer's kindness provides for me, and which would all be doubled, couldyou each share them with me.

"I have just thought of a riddle:--'What is that, which, the more youdivide it, the greater it grows?' You will guess in a minute that Imean _pleasure_; for indeed, my dear Emily, at this distance from youall, when each delight is unshared by those I so dearly love, I seem toenjoy myself only by halves.

"I shall not detain you with a long account of my journey: we have readtogether a description of the delightful scenes in the south and west ofEngland, I should therefore tell you nothing new, were I to describethem even in the most minute manner. It is enough to say, that, althoughmy expectations were highly missed, I was not disappointed with thescenery.

"Mr. Dormer, last Saturday, promised me, that if the wind should provefavourable, he would take me on Monday to see the Eddystone Lighthouse.I was, as you may suppose, extremely delighted with the idea, and themoment I was out of bed in the morning, ran to the window, and veryanxiously looked at the weather-cock, as my fate depended upon the pointfrom which the wind should blow. To my great joy, I found it full north-west, which is the most favourable point of the compass for such anexpedition.

"Whilst we were at breakfast, Mr. Dormer gave me some account of thiswonderful building. It is constructed upon the Eddystone Rock. Beforethe construction of this lighthouse, many valuable vessels were wreckedupon this spot.

"The first lighthouse was built by a gentleman of the name ofWinstanley. He was a very singular man, and had a peculiar turn formechanics, which he frequently introduced into his furniture, in such amanner as to surprise, and often even to terrify, his visitors. He livedat Littlebury in Essex. In one of his rooms there was an old slipper,lying, as it were, carelessly upon the floor; if you gave it a kick withyour foot, up started a ghastly-looking figure before you. If you satdown in one particular chair, although there was nothing in itsappearance to distinguish it from others, a couple of arms wouldimmediately clasp you, so as to render it impossible to disentangleyourself, till some one, who understood the trick, chose to set you atliberty. In his garden was an arbour, by the side of a canal, in which,if you unguardedly took a seat, forthwith you were sent afloat into themiddle of the water, before you were at all aware; from whence it wasimpossible to escape, till the manager restored you to your formersituation on dry ground.

"Mr. Dormer showed me a print of the lighthouse, which Mr. Winstanleyerected upon the rock. It must have been a whimsical-looking thing; morelike a fanciful Chinese temple, in my opinion, than an edifice thatwould have to encounter the boisterous waves of the angry ocean. Hebegan the building in 1696, and it was four years before it wascompleted. In 1703 it was much damaged, and stood in need of greatrepair. Mr. Winstanley went himself to Plymouth, to superintend thework. Some gentleman mentioning it to him, that they thought it was notbuilt upon a plan long to withstand the dreadful storms to which, fromits exposed situation, it would be subject, this presumptuous manreplied, that he was so well assured of the strength of his building, heshould only wish to be there during the most dreadful storm that everblew under the face of heaven, that he might see what effect it wouldhave upon his structure. He was, alas! too fatally gratified in thispresumptuous wish; for while he was there, with his workmen and light-keeper, on the 26th of November, one of the most tremendous stormsbegan, which was ever known in great Britain. On the 27th, when theviolence was somewhat abated, many went to look anxiously for thelighthouse; but not a remnant of it was remaining, nor were any of theunfortunate people, nor ever any of the materials, ever afterward found.

"The ravages occasioned by this tremendous tempest, were by no meansconfined to the Eddystone. In London, the loss sustained by it wascalculated at one million sterling, and upwards of eight thousandpersons were supposed to be drowned in the several inundations itoccasioned. On one level, fifteen thousand sheep were lost; and aperson counted seventeen thousand trees blown up by the roots, in Kentalone. What a happy thing is it for us, my dear sister, that thesedreadful convulsions of nature are not more frequent in our favouredisland. "Three years after the destruction of Mr. Winstanley's work, asimilar one was undertaken by a Mr. Rudyerd. It was built of wood andupon a plan very different from the former, without any unnecessaryornament, and well calculated to resist the fury of the waves.

"Mr. Dormer related to me an anecdote of Louis the Fourteenth, king ofFrance, which, as I think his conduct on the occasion much to hiscredit, I shall send to you. He was at war with the English at the timethis building was begun; during its progress, a French privateer tookthe men at work on the rock prisoners, together with their tools, andcarried them to France. The captain, no doubt, expected a handsomereward for his achievement. Whilst the captives lay in prison, thetransaction reached the ears of Louis: he immediately ordered theprisoners to be released, and the men who had captured them to be put intheir place, declaring, that although he was at war with England, he wasnot at war with all mankind. He therefore directed the men to be sentback to their work with presents; observing, that the EddystoneLighthouse was so situated, as to be of equal service to all nations whohad occasion to navigate the channel which divides England from France.

"I do not know, my dear Emily, whether you will feel as much interestedas myself, in the fate of this lighthouse; but I scarcely ever recollectto have been more delighted, than with this ornament, and wellcalculated to resist the fury of the waves. "Mr. Dormer related to me ananecdote of Louis the Fourteenth, king of France, which, as I think hisconduct on the occasion much to his credit, I shall send to you. He wasat war with the English at the time this building was begun; during itsprogress, a French privateer took the men at work on the rock prisoners,together with their tools, and carried them to France. The captain, nodoubt, expected a handsome reward for his achievement. Whilst thecaptives lay in prison, the transaction reached the ears of Louis: heimmediately ordered the prisoners to be released, and the men who hadcaptured them to be put in their place, declaring, that although he wasat ware with England, he was not at war with all mankind. He thereforedirected the men to be sent back to their work with presents; observing,that the Eddystone Lighthouse was so situated, as to be of equal serviceto all nations who had occasion to navigate the channel which dividesEngland from France.

"I do not know, my dear Emily, whether you will feel as much interestedas myself, in the fate of this lighthouse but I scarcely ever recollectto have been more delighted, than with this expedition, notwithstandingmy having been in considerable danger, as I shall tell you in its properplace. The dread of that is, however, now over, and the information Ihave gained, upon subject of which I was before totally ignorant, will,I think, be a constant source of pleasure to me. I shall venture to giveyou another anecdote or two respecting the lighthouse; for as our tastesare, on many subjects, very similar, I am inclined to hope my accountwill not weary your patience, though I sometimes fear, the lively littleLouisa may think I might have chosen a more interesting topic.

"But to proceed with my relation. For many years after the establishmentof the second lighthouse, it was attended by two men only; and, indeed,the duty required no more. This duty consisted in watching, alternately,four hours, to snuff and renew the candles. But it happened that one ofthe men was taken ill and died, and notwithstanding the Eddystone flagwas hoisted as a signal of distress, yet the weather was so boisterousfor some time, as to prevent any boat from getting near enough to speakto them. In this dilemma, the living man found himself in a very awkwardsituation, being apprehensive, that if he committed the dead body to thedeep, (the only way in which he could dispose of it,) he might becharged with his murder. This induced him, for some time, to let thecorpse remain, in hopes that the boat might be able to land, and relievehim from his distress. In the mean time, the body became, as it mightnaturally be supposed that it would do, extremely offensive, and thepoor man's sufferings were, as you may imagine, very great. He, however,bore it till some sailors effected their landing, when, with theirassistance, it was committed to the waves. This unpleasant circumstanceinduced the proprietors afterwards to employ a third man; so that incase of any future accident of the same nature, there might beconstantly one to supply his place. I should not much like a life ofsuch confinement, where the troubled waves must be almost one's onlycompanion. The tastes of mankind are, however, various, and it is verywell they are so:--'Many men, many minds,' as our copy says. Ferdinandwanted an explanation of its meaning the other day. I can tell him alittle anecdote, very much to my present subject, and to that pointalso.

"A skipper was once carrying out a shoe-maker in his boat, to be alight-keeper at the Eddystone. 'How happens it, friend,' said he, 'thatyou should choose to go out to be a light-keeper, when you can, onshore, as I am told, earn half-a-crown or three shillings a day, bymaking leathern pipes; whereas, the light-keeper's salary is but twenty-five pounds a year, which is scarcely ten shillings a week.' To this theshoemaker replied: 'I am going, bcause I don't like confinement:' Thusyou see, my dear Ferdinand, what different ideas different people attachto the same word.

"I am now coming to a very melancholy part of my narrative, which is,the fatal catastrophe that occasioned the destruction of this celebratedbuilding.

"About two o'clock in the morning, on the second of December, 1755, whenone of the light-keepers went into the lantern to snuff the candles, asusual, he found the whole in a smoke, and upon opening the door of thelantern into the balcony, a flame instantly burst from the inside of thecupola. He immediately endeavoured to alarm his companions; but theybeing in bed and asleep, were some time before they came to hisassistance.

"There were always some leathern buckets kept on the spot, and a tub ofwater in the lantern. He therefore attempted to extinguish the flames inthe cupola, by throwing water from the balcony, upon the outside coverof lead. As soon as his companions came to his assistance, he encouragedthem to fetch up water in the leathern buckets from the sea; which, youmay suppose, they could not do very quickly, as the fire was at so greata height. You may judge of their horror, in perceiving that the flamesgained strength every moment, in spite of all their efforts toextinguish them. The poor men were obliged to throw the water full fouryards higher than their heads, to render it of the least service. A mostremarkable accident put an end to the exertions of the unfortunate manwho first discovered the calamity. As he was looking very attentively,with his mouth a little way open, a quantity of lead, melted by the heatof the flames, suddenly rushed like a torrent from the roof, and fell,not only upon his head, face, and shoulders, but even down his throat,and into his stomach. This increased the terror and dismay of thesewretched men, who now saw no means of escaping. They found it impossibleto subdue the raging element, and, in dreadful alarm, retreated from theimmediate scene of horror, into one of the rooms below; and continueddescending, from room to room, as the fire, with constantly increasingfury, advanced over their head. Early in the morning, the conflagrationwas perceived by some fishermen in Plymouth Sound, who soon spread thealarm: boats were instantly sent out to the relief of the unhappysufferers at the Eddystone. They were almost stupified with terror, andwere discovered sitting in a hole under the rock. All three wereconveyed in safety to the shore; but the poor man who had swallowed themelted lead, continued to grow worse and worse, and in ten or elevendays, he expired in great agonies. Although he had always himself beenpositive that he had actually swallowed the melted metal, his physiciancould scarcely believe it possible. After his death, his body wasopened, in order to ascertain the fact, and a large lump of lead,weighing seven ounces and five drams, was actually found in his stomach.It is a most extraordinary circumstance, but Mr. Dormer says it is sowell attested, as to be beyond all possibility of doubt.

"The present lighthouse, the sight of which has afforded me so muchpleasure, was begun in 1756, by Mr. Smeaton, and completed in littlemore than three years. It is built of stone, and is reckoned quite amaster-piece of architecture. Hitherto it has resisted the utmostviolence, both of the winds and waves, and seems likely to stand so longas the rock itself endures.

"I am amused myself on Saturday evening, with taking a small drawing ofthis wonderful tower, from a large print belonging to our landlord. Ishall enclose it in this letter, as I think you will like to see arepresentation of it.

"But it is time, my dear Emily, to give you some account of our littlevoyage. And now I fancy I see you all attention. My curious sister,Louisa, has laid aside her work to listen the more profoundly; and theears and eyes of the philosophic little Ferdinand, are opened even widerthan usual, that he may not lose a single word of my narrative.

"The day could not have been more delightful, nor the wind morefavourable; and if I shone in poetical description, here would be a finefield for its display. I could tell you how brilliantly the sun-beamsdanced upon the waters, and with how delightful a motion the vesselglided lightly over its surface, as our sails swelled with the wind; butall this I shall leave for your own fancies to picture. It is sufficientfor me to say, I completely enjoyed my short voyage.

"A singular circumstance occurred soon after we left land. [Footnote:This circumstance actually occurred to the passengers on board theArgyle steam-boat, in the autumn of the year 1814.]--A poor little larkwas pursued, at no great distance from our vessel, by a merciless hawk;the little creature continued, for some time, with surprising dexterity,to elude the grasp of its intended destroyer. At length, quite exhaustedby its efforts, it alighted on our boat. I incautiously ran to catch it,purposing to shield it from the threatened danger. Not, however,comprehending my design, the terrified bird again took flight, and wasagain pursued by its pitiless foe. Half a dozen crows from aneighbouring wood, generously enlisted themselves on the weaker side,and at length succeeded in driving completely away the formidableantagonist; whilst the poor little lark again sought shelter on ourdeck, and escaped the threatened danger. This was the only adventurethat befell us on our way to the rock. The landing was very hazardous;at least, it appeared so to me, who am unaccustomed to such expeditions.

"I have already told you so many particulars of the Eddystone, thatlittle remains for me to add upon the subject. I was extremely pleasedwith the opportunity of viewing this wonderful structure, in companywith so well-informed a friend as Mr. Dormer, who took the greatestpains to explain to me the uses of its several parts. I thought of thepoor sufferers whom I have already mentioned, as exposed to the ragingof the flames; and trembled for my own safety, as the angry billowsdashed against the rocks, whilst their hollow roar seemed to me, who amnot accustomed to the tremendous sound, to threaten instant destruction.The light-keepers told us, that, on the morning after a storm, the wavesdashed above a hundred feet over the top of the building, completelyconcealing it by the spray.

"After having spent some time in admiring this wonderful monument ofhuman ingenuity, we returned to our boat in high spirits, and littleanticipating the dangers that awaited us.

"About half an hour after we left the rock, the gathering cloudsthreatened an approaching tempest; and what is termed a land-swell,dashed about our little bark, and terrified me most sadly. Mr. Dormerwas himself alarmed, but he acted on this occasion with his usualfortitude and presence of mind. Some of the gentlemen on board, who hadbeen more accustomed than I to the boisterous element, laughed at myfears, and called me a fresh-water sailor. The storm increased, and withit my terrors. I thought of my dear parents; of you, my beloved Emily;of Louisa, Ferdinand, and our dear little Sophy. I felt scarcely a hopethat I should ever see you more. My love for you would, I thought, besoon buried with myself in the stormy deep. I do not like to think ofthose moments of horror. Heaven, in mercy, preserved us through thedanger, and guided us in safety to the shore. Do you not remember thedescription of a storm, in the "Odyssey," which we were reading lastweek. I thought it, at the time, a striking passage, but having nowexperienced myself, the horrors of such a scene, I can discover in itadditional beauties:

"What a long letter have I written to you, Emily. Pray give my duty tomy dear father and mother, kiss little Sophy for me, and give my kindlove to Louisa and Ferdinand. I long to see you again. Farewell, dearEmily.

"Your affectionate

"EDWARD."

"Oh, what a delightful letter!" cried Louisa, as Emily concluded it:"but only think of his being exposed to such a dreadful storm. Dear,dear Edward, how thankful I am that you escaped in safety."

The moistened eye of his tender parent, directed with pious gratitude toheaven, silently spoke her feelings.

"Edward is quite mistaken in thinking that I should not feel interest inhis account of the lighthouse," continued Louisa; "for I think everything he has mentioned extremely entertaining, and even feeldisappointed that he has not given a more particular account of thepresent building."

"I believe, my dear," said her mother, "I can supply you with all theinformation you wish, as I have frequently heard your father speak uponthe subject."

_Louisa_. Thank you, mamma. Then, first of all, I want to know who Mr.Smeaton was, who built it.

_Mrs. B._ He was, originally, a philosophical instrument maker; and inconsequence of his having made many inventions and improvements inmechanics, he was chosen a Fellow of the Royal Society, in 1753. Notfinding the business in which he first embarked likely to afford himmuch emolument, he turned his attention to architecture, and wasrecommended to Lord Macclesfield as a very suitable person to attemptthe re-building of the Eddystone Lighthouse. His lordship bore a strongtestimony to his ability, in declaring he had never known him toundertake anything, which he did not complete to the perfectsatisfaction of those who employed him.

_Louisa_. This was speaking highly in his favour, indeed. I should thinkit would make the proprietors very anxious to have him undertake thework.

_Mrs. B._ It did, my dear. He was at that time engaged in business inScotland, where a friend wrote to him, merely informing him, in a fewwords, that he was made choice of, as a proper person to rebuild theEddystone Lighthouse. Mr. Smeaton not understanding that the formerbuilding had been totally consumed, imagined he was only required torepair or rebuild the upper part of it; or, perhaps, that he was merelyrequested to give in his proposals, with other candidates. Theinformation of his friend, therefore, occasioned him no great joy; norwas he much inclined to have any thing to do in the business, notthinking it prudent to leave the affairs, which at that time engaged hisattention, upon an uncertainty.

_Louisa_. How much disappointed the proprietors must have been, if hesent them this answer.

_Mrs. B._ He first prudently wrote a letter to his friend, enquiringwhat was the extent of the mischief the former lighthouse had sustained,and whether he was actually appointed to make the repairs. To this hereceived an answer still more laconic than the first letter had been:"It is a total demolition; and, as Nathan said unto David, thou art theman."

_Louisa_. What an odd man that friend must have been. I suppose thissecond letter pleased him highly, and that he was willing to undertakethe business.

_Mrs. B._ Yes, my dear; he regarded it as a high honour to be consideredcompetent to so great a work, and having finished the business in whichhe was engaged in the north, he set off for London, where he arrived onthe 23d of February, 1756. Mr. Smeaton had an interview with theproprietors, when it was determined that he should go to Plymouth; and,after seeing the rock, and examining the plans upon which the two formerbuildings had been erected, should communicate his ideas to theproprietors. They seemed to wish to have it again constructed with wood;Mr. Smeaton himself, on the contrary, greatly preferred stone.

_Louisa_. I should think stone would be much best: it could not then beburnt down again; but I suppose it would be a great deal dearer thanwood.

_Mrs. B._ Exactly so, Louisa. However, the gentlemen concerned in thebusiness, were too generous to let this influence their determination;therefore, when convinced that it would not only be stronger constructedof stone, but also more speedily erected, they did not hesitate amoment, but determined that it should be rebuilt in the very bestmanner; and such was their confidence in Mr. Smeaton's honour andintegrity, that they left the accomplishment of the plan entirely tohim.

_Louisa_. In what month did he begin his work, mamma?

_Mrs. B._ On the 23d of July, 1756, he set sail for the rock; but therewas a great deal to be done before the erection of the building could bebegun. First, marking out and preparing the rock, and contriving suchcements as would not be affected by water.

_Ferdinand._ I was wondering how that would be managed.

_Mrs. B._ Mr. Smeaton was indefatigable in his experiments upon thatsubject, and at length succeeded, in a manner equal to his most sanguineexpectations.

_Louisa_. I long to hear when he began the building.

_Mrs. B._ Have a little patience, my love, and you shall hear. Towardsthe end of May, 1757, every thing was in readiness for the commencementof the work. The comfort and accommodation of the light-keepers was, inthis building, most kindly considered. In the one constructed by Mr.Rudyerd, the bed-rooms had been in the lower part, and the kitchen attop; but the beds were, in that case, very apt to be damp. In thepresent instance, the chambers are contrived above the kitchen; thefunnel for the smoke from which, passes through them, and by this meansthey are kept constantly warm and comfortable. I cannot give you anaccount of the whole admirable arrangement of this building, nor do Ithink it would be at all interesting to you if I could; you will besatisfied to know, that on the 9th of October, 1759, it was completed,without loss of life or limb to any person concerned in it. Not asingle accident occurred during the whole time, by which the work couldbe said to have been retarded. The time that elapsed, between the firststroke upon the rock, and leaving the lighthouse completed, was threeyears, nine weeks, and three days.

_Louisa_. Thank you, dear mamma. Now I think I know all about it; andI feel quite as well pleased, as if I had actually been at theEddystone, and heard the billows roar, and seen the waves dash over it,in the tremendous manner Edward says they sometimes do.

"I am much better pleased than I should be under those circumstances,"said Emily, whose gentle nature preferred the calm of domestic life, toany other scene. But Ferdinand thought it would certainly be moreinteresting to see and hear for himself, under all circumstances, thanto receive the most eloquent description from the lips of another.

"And now, pray, mamma," added he, "what does Edward mean by calling me aphilosopher. I believe he only intended to laugh at me, and that I donot much like. Little boys cannot be philosophers, can they?"

"O yes, mamma, certainly," said Edward, "for I love nothing so well ashearing new things, and improving myself."

"The word philosophy," my dear, "is formed from two Greek terms, whichsignify a lover of wisdom. You have heard your father speak ofPythagoras?"

_Ferdinand._ Yes, I have, mamma. I heard him once say, that he was thefirst who discovered the solar system.

_Mrs. B._ Do you understand the meaning of the term you have just used,my dear?

_Ferdinand_. It means, the revolution of the earth and other planetsround the sun, I believe, mamma.

_Mrs. B._ True. This was discovered, as your father has informed you,by Pythagoras, several hundred years before the birth of our Saviour.This great man was as humble as he was wise; and when the appellation of_sophist_ was given him, which signifies a wise man, he requested ratherto be called a _philosopher_, or _lover_ of wisdom.

_Ferdinand_. I like Pythagoras very much, mamma; I wish you would be sokind as to tell me some more about him.

_Mrs. B._ That I will do most willingly, my dear. I see the sun isbreaking out, and I believe we may venture to take a little walk. Goand put on your cloaks and bonnets, Emily and Louisa, and we will talkabout Pythagoras as we go along.

The children were soon equipped, and joined their mother in the garden.The plantations were extensive, and as the clouds still looked dark andlowering, they did not venture to extend their ramble beyond them.

Mrs. Bernard aroused them for some time, with relating the mostinteresting particulars of the life of Pythagoras.

Louisa thought his forbidding his pupils to speak in his presence, tillthey had listened five years to his instructions, was not a good plan;declaring, that she should learn very little, were she not allowed toask the meaning of such things as she did not understand, and to mentionher own notions upon various subjects.

"The plan adopted by Pythagoras," said Mrs. Bernard, "was calculated toteach his pupils those amiable virtues--diffidence, humility, andforbearance. These charms give a brilliant lustre to every otheracquirement; indeed, they are so necessary, that knowledge without them,far from improving a character, is apt to produce conceit and arrogance,which are great failings in all, but particularly disgusting in youth."

Louisa fully agreed to the truth of her mother's remark, and was goingon with the conversation upon the character of the philosopher, when herattention was attracted by her favourite tortoise. He was creepingslowly out of his hole, to enjoy the sun-beams, which at this instant,with splendour, shone through the dark cloud, that a moment before hadobscured his rays.

"Mamma, does not the tortoise live a great many years?" enquired Louisa.

"It does, my dear," returned Mrs. Bernard: "I was reading an account inthe 'Monthly Magazine,' this morning, of one which lives in the gardenof the Bishop of Peterborough, and is known to have been two hundred andsixteen years in the country."

"Two hundred and sixteen years!" exclaimed Louisa, with astonishment:"why that is almost as long as the patriarchs lived of old."

"Oh no, indeed, you are mistaken there, Louisa," said Ferdinand; "for Iread in the Bible, this morning, that Methuselah, who was the oldest manever known, lived nine hundred and sixty-nine years."

Mr. Bernard at this instant joined them, and in conversation equallyinstructive and entertaining, the time passed pleasantly away, till thedinner-bell summoned them to the house.

"Several days elapsed without any remarkable occurrence; frequentshowers prevented their visiting the poor cottager, whose healthgradually recovered, under the kind care of her excellent nurse Jane,and the tender attentions of her little Susan. On the day fixed forEdward's return, the two children were again taken to their humble home,and rejoiced their mother by their improved appearance.

Each hour was anxiously counted, as the time fixed for his arrivalapproached. Ferdinand, Louisa, and little Sophy, stationed themselvesat the window. Anxiously they watched every carriage that drove pastthe gate; at length, a cry of joy announced his arrival. In an instanthe was folded in the arms of his tender parents, and alternatelyembraced, with the greatest affection, by his brother and sisters. Everyindividual rejoiced at his return. And thus restored to the bosom ofDOMESTIC PLEASURE, we leave him, for the present, tranquil and happy.

THE END.

* * * * * HISTORICAL QUESTIONS.

Who were Numitor and Amullus? Who was Romulus? To what danger wereRomulus and Remus exposed in their infancy? How were they preserved?Where does the river Tiber rise, and where does it discharge itself?What is its present name? What was the employment of Romulus and Remusduring their youth? What circumstance was the principal cause of thechange in their situations? What occasioned the death of Remus? Whofounded Rome? What was its first form of government? Did any thingextraordinary attend the first peopling of Rome? What was the cause ofthe Sabine war? How did the Sabines gain possession of the Capitolinehill? How was Tarpeia punished for her treachery? What was theconsequence of the Sabines becoming masters of the Capitoline hill? Howwere the two nations reconciled? What change did this reconciliationoccasion in the government of Rome? Did Tatius long survive thisarrangement? What occasioned the death of Romulus? Who was NumaPompilius, and what was his character? Was he elected to the sovereignauthority immediately after the death of Romulus? How was he received bythe Roman people? How did he fulfill the important duties of a king?What was the name of the temple he built, which was only opened duringwar? What regulations did he make, to allay the animosities subsistingbetween the Sabines and Romans? How many years did he reign, and whatwas his age at his death? Where was he buried? Can you tell me why Numacalled the first month January, and whence the others derived theirnames? Who was the third king of Rome? What was his character? Who werethe first people who gave Tallus an opportunity of indulging his warlikedisposition? How was this war terminated? Who were the Horatii andCuriatii? What cruel action tarnished the honour which Horatius gainedby his victory? Did he undergo no punishment for his crime? What was theyoke, used as a punishment by the Romans? Did Horatius receive no honourfor his victory? Did the Romans continue at peace after the terminationof the Alban war? How was the life of Tullus Hostilius terminated? Giveme a sketch of his character. What new law did he establish? Whosucceeded him? Who was Ancus Martius? What was his character? Give me ashort sketch of his reign. How long did he govern Rome? Who succeededhim? Who was Lucius Tarquinius Priscus? How did he obtain the crown? Howdid he govern the city so unjustly acquired? Give me an account ofAltius Naevius, and tell me the meaning of the word augur. What wasTully's opinion of the pretended miracle? How did Tarquinius close hislong life? Were his murderers taken? Did they confess their guilt? Whatis the punishment of the torture? How did queen Tanaquil act upon thedeath of her husband? What became of the sons of Ancus Martius? How didServius act? Who were his parents? Where is Corniculum situated, andwhat is its present name? Is any thing extraordinary related respectinghis infancy? Who had the charge of his education? How can you accountfor his having so easily obtained the throne on the death of his father-in-law? In what manner did he conduct himself after his accession? Howwas he received by the nobles? How did Servius act in this emergency?How did he ingratiate himself with the people? Give me some account ofthe war with the Vicentes. Where is Veii? What was the result of thiswar? How did Servius still further work upon the feelings of the people?Did the nobles raise any other cabals against him? What resolution washe inclined to make in consequence of this? Who prevented his fulfillingthis resolution? What was the character of Tanaquil? Was Servius engagedin any new war? How did he employ the interval of rest after thetermination of this war? What important regulations did he introduceinto the government? What was his most impolitic measure? What was theconsequence of the ill-judged marriage of his daughters? What stratagemdid Tarquin make use of to gain possession of the throne? In what mannerdid he behave to her aged father? How did Tullia act upon seeing thebleeding body of her father in the street? Give me a sketch of thecharacter of the venerable Servius. At what age did he die, and how longhad he reigned? Was he allowed the honours of a funeral? What became ofhis wife Tarquinia? What do you learn from this disgraceful catastrophe?How did Tarquin act upon the death of the aged Servius? Give me a proofof his injustice How did Brutus escape the same sad fate as the rest ofhis family? How did the nobles escape the tyranny of Tarquin? How did heact towards the people? How did he employ them, to prevent theirbrooding over their misfortunes? How were the patricians kept insubmission? How afar distant was Gabii from Rome? What circumstanceoccurred to increase the discontents of the Roman people? What plan didSextus devise, to extricate his father from his difficulties? How did heexecute it? What were the consequences? What happened to Tarquin and hisinfamous son, after their treachery? What became of the unfortunateinhabitants of Gabii? Give me an account of the manner in which theSybilline books were brought to Rome. What occurred to interrupt thetranquillity of Tarquin's reign? What means did he take to enquire intothe cause of this calamity? Who accompanied the princes to the Oracle?What present did Brutus take to the god? What answer was returned totheir enquiries of who should succeed Tarquin on the throne? How didBrutus act when he heard the reply? What occasioned the overthrow of theregal power in Rome? How did Brutus act on this occasion? What effecthad his speech upon the people? How did Tarquin act? What was his objectin going to Gabii? Did he succeed to his wishes? Whither did he nextflee? What was passing in the meantime in Rome? Who did Tarquin persuadeto undertake an embassy to Rome? What was the object of it? How were theambassadors received? Being disappointed in this scheme, what wasTarquin's next attempt? Was this second embassy successful? What werehis demands? Were they granted? What was the consequence? Who were themost remarkable among the conspirators? By whom was their plotdiscovered? Who sat in judgment on the sons of Brutus? What was hisdecree? What became of the other conspirators? How did Brutus meet hisdeath? What funeral honours were decreed him? What became of Tarquin?When was Rome built? In what year was the regal power abolished? Howlong had it existed?

* * * * *

MISCELLANEOUS QUESTIONS.

Who was the wisest of men? What was his choice, when many blessings wereoffered him? Do you consider knowledge and wisdom to be the same thing?Repeat to me Cowper's lines upon this subject. Where does tea come from?What was the cause of its first introduction into Europe? How many yearsis it since this circumstance? How many pounds weight were sold by theEast India Company in the year 1700? What is the present annualconsumption? Can you give me any account of the manner in which it iscultivated? On what does the difference of flavour depend? How is itprepared for sale? What occasions the difference between green and blacktea? Give me some account of the dwarf named Baby. On what account didPeter the Great assemble a vast number of dwarfs together? Can you tellme where birds of Paradise come from, and how many species there are ofthem? Give me 1 description of this bird. Do they migrate? What is themeaning of the word monsoon? What is the food of the humming-bird, andhow does it procure it? How do they construct their nests? Will thesebirds live in England? What is the peculiarity of the feet of theChinese women? Give me a description of the mode of educating the boysin China. Are the girls of that country equally well educated? What isthe native country of the peacock? Where are the islands of Java andCeylon situated? Give me some further particulars of the peacock. Repeatthese lines of Cowper's, in which he so prettily contrasts the retiringmodesty of the pheasant, with the proud display made by the peacock, ofhis gaudy plumes. Repeat to me the passage on politeness, quoted fromXenophon's Cyropaedia. Give me some particulars of that curious littleanimal, the Lapland Marmot. What is asbestos? Where is it found? Of whatuse is the cloth manufactured from it, and what are its peculiarproperties? How many classes are there in botany? How many are there inthat division of natural history called the animal kingdom? What aretheir names? How many divisions are there in natural history? How manyorders belong to the first class, Mammalia? What are their names? Repeatto me Mr. Pope's lines upon Superficial Information? What is the meaningof the word Pierian? Who were the nine Muses? Relate the story of theold man and his bundle of sticks. Can you tell me the origin of fables?What is the first specimen of them of which we read? Explain to me theapplication of the fable of the bramble. What was the parable spoken byNathan to King David? Give me an account of the Americana vesselstranded on the island of Stameo. Where is this island situated, and areits inhabitants numerous? What are their manners and government? Repeatto me Cecil's remarks on Punctuality. What becomes of swallows in thewinter? What is Mr. White's opinion on that subject? How many kinds ofBritish hirundines are there, and what are their names? Which speciesfirst makes its appearance? How does the swallow construct its nest? Howmany broods do they rear each season? On what do they feed? How areswallows distinguished from the other species of hirundines? In whatmonth do they usually disappear? Repeat to me Mr. White's lines uponthese birds. How does the house-martin construct her nest? In what monthdo they usually leave us? How are they distinguished? Give me someaccount of the swift. Where do they build their nests, and how many eggsdoes the female usually lay? How may they be distinguished from theother species? Do they continue with us as late a the former ones? Canyou give me some account of the sand-martin? How are they distinguished?Are they songsters? Give me some account of the nest of the esculentmartin. What is ginseng, and where is it found? Where are the nests ofthe esculemt-martin found, and what is their value? How do theinhabitants procure them? What particular ceremony do the Javanese use,previously to this undertaking? Give me some account of the dragon-fly.What are the insects upon which they particularly feed? Where does thefemale deposit her eggs? What is the first appearance this insectassumes? Upon what do they feed in this state? How long do they continuereptiles? Give me some account of their transformation. What is theopinion of Hunter, the celebrated anatomist, respecting the migration ofthe swallow tribes, and upon what clues he found his opinion? What isthe meaning of the word anatomy? What difference is there between theinternal structure of the cassowary and the ostrich? What is the meaningof the term, benefit of clergy? How is the first class in naturalhistory, called Mamamalia, distinguished? What animals belong to thefirst order, Primates, and how may they be distinguished? Which are thecanine teeth? What animals belong to the second order, Bruta, and howmay they be known? What are the characteristics of the third order,Fera, and what animals does it comprehend? Give me an account of thefourth order, Glires, with the animals belonging to it. What animalsbelong to the fifth order, Pecora, and how may they be known? What arethe characteristics of the sixth order, Fellux, and what animals areincluded under it? How is the seventh order, Cete, distinguished? Whatis the meaning of the word _predacious_? What are the pectoral fins, andwhat is their use? What is the meaning of the term _cartilaginous_? Whatis geography? What is chronology? What are the causes of earthquakes?Give me an account of the one which happened in Jamaica in 1692. Give mesome account of the one in Calabria. Repeat Cowper's lines upon thissubject. What is tapioca? What is sago? Of what use is the EddystoneLighthouse? By when was the first constructed? What was this gentleman'scharacter? What occasioned the destruction of this edifice? Give me someaccount of the dreadful storm that occurred in the year 1703. By whomwas the second lighthouse built, and what were the materials of which iswas composed? How did Louis XIV behave to some workmen captured on therock by a French Privateer? What circumstance occasioned there beingthree men stationed on this spot, instead of two, as formerly? Whatdestroyed the second building? What particular circumstance occurredduring this sad catastrophe? In what year was the present buildingerected, and who was the architect? With what materials is the presentedifice constructed? Give me some account of the circumstances that ledto the appointment of Mr. Smeaton to this undertaking? How long werethey in building the present lighthouse? From what is the wordphilosophy derived? What is the solar system? By whom was it firstdiscovered? Does the tortoise live many years? What is the age of the